Dixon Scott Holmes
by Dixon Holmes
Summary: My name is Dixon Holmes. All my life I have felt like I didnt belong. I was adopted and had a knack for solving puzzles. I became a consulting detective and in my work I have discovered clues to who I really am, and where I belong. My goal? To go home...
1. Prologue

PROLOGUE

_My name is Dixon Scott Hatfield-Holmes. I am the son of the world renowned Sherlock Holmes. I have been brought to the twenty-first century by a series of indescribable events... It is here that I have discovered who my true father was, taking up the "family business" I have began to battle crime, restoring peace to a world which knows no such thing, bringing justice to those who deserve it. All in an attempt to find my true home, my true family and the place I truly belong and these are my memoirs………_

September 5th 1888, a cold, rainy night in London. At the local hospital, a slightly heavy set man runs in. As the man runs he stops at the counter and asks the nurse about a room. She points in the direction of the doors opposite of which he came in. He followed her directions and found the room. Inside was a woman on the bed, her legs bent at the knees, with a doctor sitting in front of her. In the corner sat another man, thin, his face almost skeletal like, he sits there and puffs his pipe, until he spots the man, then he jumps up and says "Watson! Thank God you're here." to the man who is now doubled over trying frantically to catch his breath, as he motions to the empty chair next to him.

"I came as soon as I got the news Holmes. How is she?" Watson, sitting down in the chair then takes a glance to look at the woman on the bed. With her long black hair, and her bright green eyes, she definitely was a beautiful woman and she was doing the most beautiful thing in the world; giving birth. 

"She is well for the time being." Holmes replied.

As she began to go into labor, the doctor asked Watson to leave the room. Sherlock Holmes stayed to observe the birth of his child. Several hours past and Holmes came bursting out of the room exclaiming, "It's a Boy! It's a boy Watson! It's a Boy!" he continued to shout as he announced it to the whole hospital that he had a son. Just then a large figure ran into the room, there was a scream. Holmes turned in time but did not have chance to stop the figure as they headed out into the dark rain of night. That however, did not stop Holmes, he quickly gave chase, out into the dark rain, to the bridge, where the figure spun and jumped off of the bridge taking the newborn child with him. As Holmes peered over the side, there were no ripples, not even a splash came from the quiet steady river. The figure and his child were gone, without a trace.


	2. Case One: Chapter One

CASE #1

CHAPTER 1: STARTING OFF

It was a dark and rainy night. And not just any rain either, a cold, hard, bitter rain; a rain that could darken even the lightest of moods of those who would venture out on this dreadful night. Peering out of my study window I stood not a bit older than twenty-three, five-foot nine, and a slight muscular build. I just stood there, watching the rain, listening to the sounds of the pattering on the windowsill. There was classical music playing softly in the corner, providing an ominous soundtrack to my thoughts. I peer down at the faded black and white portrait, encased in a tarnished bronze frame with dusty glass protecting it, sitting on the end-table. My father with his deer stalker cap and magnifying glass couldn't have looked more determined. It is the only thing I have left of him, with the exception of his genes. Then for no apparent reason I threw open the window. The rain came rushing into the house bearing down on me and the photo like an impending doom. I, standing there, couldn't have been more relaxed. As the rain continued to patter and bead on my face and head, streaming down my neck where it had met the rain dampened shirt. My brown hair, looking blacker and blacker as the rain wet it, gives my face almost a babyish look. I then shut my window and the sounds dimmed. I walked across the room to the easy chair set up in front of a small fire. I sat there, and allowed the pattern of the flames consume and overwhelm me. I reach over grab my pipe, press some tobacco into it, light it and flick the match into the already roaring flames. I begin to puff. It is here in this chair that I have come to reminisce on these past few years, examining everything in precise detail, for the lives of others rest upon it.

It has been five months since I have returned from my teenage adventures. I have now returned to my home town of Grayling, Michigan and have found a quiet cozy little place to settle down. Here is where I have found to be the most comfortable, the most relaxed and in all honesty, the most tranquil. It is here that I have finally decided to truly begin my business as a consulting detective, sure I have done a few cases throughout my travels, but I kept anonymous. It is here where I intended to make a name for myself. And inside this journal I have included my recent adventures, and cases. In my two story house on Bakersfield Street. It is here that I have decided to live the grandest adventures of my life. Being only eighteen and just fresh out on my own I decided to really take the "leap" as it has been called, into adulthood.

The first several months of this life were difficult, not many people would trust an eighteen year old "kid" to take charge of an important case, in spite of the fact that I have had previous experience. Although I had inquired at the local crime lab, and police department I was still turned down, with the exception for the sparse consulting jobs I did for them. Then, something happened that gave me a chance, the chance to get my name out in the public as I had long hoped for. An old friend of mine had come into town recently, to visit another friend of ours who lived in Charlevoix. He decided that it would be fun to stop in town to visit me. Although the unexpected visit was definitely a surprise, I must confess, it was not unwelcome. It truly gave me joy when he stopped in. His name was Brandon J. Lockrey. Brandon had always been a strange person, half of the time I could never quite figure out what was going on inside his mind. The other half, well let's just say I didn't want to know. 

It was at the Grayling Restaurant that I saw him, early October. Sitting at the counter drinking coffee with my brother Adam, and my girlfriend Tabbitha; who, I had hoped if all things went well for several years we would get married. Talking to them about the upcoming Au Sable Canoe Race, which happened yearly, we heard the front bell ring, and, out of habit we and half of the other people in the restaurant turned and looked at the front door. It was there that he stood. His short black hair, still untidy as ever, his pants, no longer baggy, in fact it was the exact opposite, he was instead wearing a military dress uniform.. His eyes still held the same gloomy, depressed look that they always had. And his face itself hadn't looked as though he aged a day over sixteen.

Standing up to greet him, I gave him a chance to see how much I have changed. For a minute he looked as though he didn't recognize me, but then I gave him that older brother smile that I always gave him, being he was two years younger than me. Almost at once he looked as if he was hit by a fist. He looked floored. He stood there, mouth open, staring at me. I wasn't sure what he was looking at but then I quickly found out. He walked over to me and shook my hand, his grip was quite a bit firmer than I remembered but I didn't have much time to react, because he quickly pulled me into a hug which nearly lifted me off of the ground. As he stepped back he said to me "You look good, man. Have you been working out?"

"Not really, just jogging every morning; push-ups, sit-ups, and jogging that's about it. I see you've put some muscle on your bones since the last time I have seen you too. What are you doing up here? And what's with the uniform?"

"Air Force, I'm on leave. I figured I would visit Dan. He lives in Charlevoix, didn't you know?"

"No, I didn't. I haven't really talked to many people since I moved from Kearsley, just you. And I think you're still a bit away."

"I figured while I was up I would stop and see how you were. And from the looks of things you are doing all right for yourself." He stated glancing over my shoulder at my companions. Quickly remembering they were right behind me I said, a little embarrassed,

"Where are my manners? Brandon I would like you to meet my younger brother Adam, Adam this is Brandon. And this is my good friend Tabbitha Pelkey. Tabby, this is a good friend, and former classmate of mine Brandon James Lockrey." And much to my surprise when he was done shaking Adam's hand he gently took Tabby's hand and gave it a soft kiss.

"Dix has told me much about you, both of you. I must say he really enjoys your company. And he has quite a thing for you Ms. Pelkey. In fact, just the other day he was telling me about how he wanted to ask you to dinner but wasn't sure how to do it," looking at him in disbelief of what he just revealed I am standing there with my mouth open and I could feel my face turning as red as his Firebird outside. Tabbitha, looking at me over Brandon's shoulder, with a large smile on her face gives me a look that says "We'll talk about this later." I reply by simply closing my mouth and returning her smile, still quite red. As though he could feel my eyes burning a hole in the back of his head he added quickly, "I probably shouldn't have said that because now he is standing right behind me glaring at me right?" Adam just stood there and nodded his head. Brandon quickly turned around to face me and said very innocently, "I swear to God man, I thought you were going to have this already taken care of? I didn't realize…" but then I cut him off.

"That's alright. I probably couldn't have done it better even if I stood up on this very counter and announced it to the whole restaurant. So anyway, how are things down south?" I asked for several reasons, one; wanting to see if I could uncover the truth to why he was here and two; to change the subject.

"They're fine." He said, scratching the back of his neck, trying to avoid the question.

"What, thing's not going well with the new wife?"

"Now wait a minute how did you know that?"

"Simple really, the last time I saw you it was well over a year ago at dinner on Christmas Eve if memory serves, with your girlfriend of three years. Looking at you today I realized something. Since your hair was untidy, and you look as though you've been to hell and back. You must have had a rough week. Looking at your hand I see that you have a pale white line around your left ring finger indicating that you either are or were recently married. Knowing full well that it takes six weeks for a mark like that to go away completely, and yours still looking fresh I concluded that you were recently divorced or were trying to hide that you were married. But you helped me eliminate the fact of you being divorced when you gave me that hug. I could feel your wedding band inside your jacket pocket." He stood there shaking his head.

"You never miss a beat do you Holmes." he said as he dipped his hand down into his pocket to retrieve the hidden ring.

"Holmes?" Adam asked intently, and from the look on Tabbitha's face she was asking herself the same question.

"You mean he never told you?" Brandon asked looking quite confused.

"Told us what?" Tabbitha asked. As we all sat down at the counter I motioned for the waitress to get him a cup of coffee. Brandon continued,

"This guy was Kearsley High School's own Sherlock Holmes. Everyone, even the staff consulted him for advice and to take cases. He was a natural. And even some would consider him a hero. Heck, he solved quite a few cases for me. Granted it wasn't anything compared to the case he did for the principal, Dix, he went to the ends of the earth to solve a case. And he didn't even really charge anything either. And if he did his prices were small, but with quite a few cases he had a small fortune. The school began to call him Sherlock Holmes reincarnated. He even has a plaque with an engraving of his portrait next to a picture of Sherlock Holmes. Do you know what the inscription under it says? It says: 'DIX HATFIELD & SHERLOCK HOLMES: PROOF THAT GREAT MINDS THINK ALIKE' that's what it says. He has paved a path for his own career starting at Kearsley High School and ending…well here I guess." At that point I stepped in and said,

"I may be flattered that they dedicated a plaque to me at the school, but I never asked to be put on a pedestal like that. Half of the time I was worrying about what I was going to be doing the next day. I did it because it was cheap money that I needed to save for the house that I have now."

"Come on Dix," Brandon said, "Quit being so modest, you are great at your job."

"I simply apply methods of deductive reasoning and never make assumptions about anything, and above all remain unbiased. My friend I would hardly call that great, even you could do the same." At that moment Brandon's cell phone rang. Brandon excused himself from the counter and discussion toward the restrooms to take the call. Meanwhile Adam and Tabbitha looked at me as if I had kept a great secret from them. I nervously shrugged my shoulders and smiled. Tabbitha then asked to speak to me alone, so we got up and walked outside to talk.

"You have a thing for me?"

"Yeah…kinda"

"How bad?"

"Well, I'll put it this way, I can't stop thinking about you, and you're on my mind constantly. Every time I close my eyes I can see your face as clearly as if you are standing right in front of me. Does that put it into perspective for you?"

"Yeah actually it does," she said, "I am kinda glad, because I sorta have a thing for you too."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I am the same way with you." At that moment, Adam walks outside, Brandon close on his heels.

"Dix… Sorry I did not mean to interrupt anything." I guess the good thing was that we got our feelings out into the open about one another. I turned to look at Brandon and Adam, who both had smug grins on their faces. Brandon asked me,

"Dix, are you up for a little trip?" and looking back at Tabbitha, smiling I replied.

"Sure, where are we off to?"

"Dan's."

"Why?"

"He thinks there is something that might interest you Holmes old boy."

"Already I am intrigued," I then added an English accent, "Are we to take your car or mine?"

"Both."

"Very well then; to Charlevoix." I exclaimed. Adam and Brandon took his Car while Tabbitha and I took mine. The jet black 1972 Chevrolet Corvette Stingray sat out front of the Restaurant, waiting for someone to get behind the wheel and drive it like a bat out of Hell. As I got into the car and Tabbitha sat down next to me I noticed that she sat a little closer than she usually does, which made no difference to me. All that did was close the miniscule distance that was still remaining between us. I placed my arm on the back of the seat and turned my head to see out of the back. Then we took Old 27 North to Gaylord and jumped onto the expressway. As we past the last little bit of Gaylord the scenery opened up to reveal a nice mid-autumn morning, the leaves beginning to turn their wonderful colors while the pine remained ever green.

As we follow Brandon to Charlevoix, Tabbitha asked me, "Dix, why is it that you never talk about your past with us?"

"Because, it makes it seem like I prefer the past better than the present."

"And do you?"

"Currently there is neither place nor time I would rather be than right here, with you, right now."

"Good enough for me, but if I were to ever ask about the past…would you tell me?"

"Of course. My life is an open book. It is there for those who want to read it."

"Alright. How did you and Brandon meet?"

"We met our freshman year in High School…Drama Class. We both shared a unique talent for handling swords and other weapons. It was our job, throughout the next two years to demonstrate how a weapon was used, carried, and treated."

"But, aren't weapons illegal to have in schools?"

"Yes, but this was for things like plays and skits that were put on for the public. And the weapons were not real, plastic."

"Okay, I understand."

"Anyway we performed a sword duel, for a Romeo and Juliet play that the seniors were going to put on. I resembled the part of Mercucio and Brandon, the part of Tybalt. After the demonstration we went and had lunch and began talking and comparing notes and things, and we've been friends since."

"That's kinda cool, a little dangerous, but always a cool way to meet someone new."

"Yeah, thank god we were using plastic swords, or the fight may have ended differently than Shakespeare wrote and intended." That comment made her laugh. Just then we pulled into Dan's driveway, right behind Adam and Brandon. As we stepped out of the car Dan opened the door to welcome us in. I noticed that he hasn't changed much since the last time I saw him, maybe got an inch or two taller, but that's about it. He shook Brandon, Adam, and my hands, and he gave a slight bow to Tabbitha as she walked past him into his house. That was always his way, bowing to people. I asked him about it one time and he told me that it was a sign of respect. Since then I have picked up the habit of bowing to people, but not just women, but all people. As he shut the door I noticed that he gave a quick nervous glance at the surroundings. When the door was completely shut he bolted, locked, and chained the door as though he were expecting some unfriendly company.

"So Dan, how are you my old friend?"

"Not so good really, I've known since you left Kearsley that you would always come back up north. I have been meaning to contact you for the last several weeks now. I would like to implore your services. Please sit down." He said as he escorted us into his study and motioned for us to sit down. I myself took comfort on the loveseat which was already occupied by Tabbitha.

"Please continue. You know how I work, present all of the facts to me, but remain precise. The slightest detail may be important." I told him while I sat there, closing my eyes as to envision the entire scene of the Crime. This also allowing me to block out any visual distractions, that may keep me from taking in all of the facts, and yet remaining impartial to the case.

"Of course, as you know, I have never been one to get out of a big city, so naturally I was a little on edge about moving here to Charlevoix. Once here, I did not soon begin to relax. I constantly kept my doors and windows locked, even when I was home. I was continuously looking behind me to see if anyone was following me just as I had done in Flint." He stopped to look at my reaction which although I didn't see I could tell he was searching for a response. When he did not get one he continued his story. "Two weeks ago I finally began to relax a bit, to the point where I left my deadbolt unlocked but still kept the handle locked. Just last Thursday I came home from working on a side job in Traverse City, my front door was wide open. I took my handgun that I bought a year ago out from under my front seat. As I searched every room of the house I found nothing missing, nobody to be seen, but I did find this," he said as he handed me a piece of paper, "What do you make of this?"

"Are you the only other person who touched this?" I asked, while stopping Brandon from taking the paper from Dan's hand.

"Yes, I haven't shown it to anybody, with the exception of you."

"Very well, give me a minute please?" I asked. And with a nod from Dan I removed a set of rubber latex gloves from my jacket pocket. I quickly slid my hands into them, then taking the paper from Dan I noticed several impressions on the paper, however I said nothing about them, but I didn't forget to make a mental note of it. Laying the paper on the coffee table I asked everyone not to touch the paper while I had been outside, for I had to retrieve my C.S.U. kit from my trunk. As I returned I walked into a room of people waiting intently for my analysis. I set my kit on the floor next to the table. "Did this come in an envelope?" I asked as I removed fingerprint powder from my kit and grabbed my brush.

"Yes, I have it here." Dan said as he walked over to the cabinet across the room to retrieve it. "But I didn't realize that you might've needed it." He noted as he handed me the envelope." I gave a quick nod in response. Opened the powder, dipped the brush into the powder and began to sprinkle the paper. As I did so I uncovered several fingerprints on the envelope. The paper itself however provided no such luck. Clean as a whistle, well, with the exception of Dan's. This made some sense to me; someone must have used gloves while handling the paper, but did not care to the same precautions for the envelope. I turned my attention from the envelope to the letter. It had read:


	3. Case One: Chapter Two

CHAPTER 2:

Looking down at the paper that was held in my hand, I noticed the scribble-like writing on the page. Though it did not seem to be important at the time, I still took notice, and documented everything I deduced from the paper. As I looked at the paper, I was not startled by anything except what was written on the paper. 

_November 5th, 2006 be at the west side of the Mackinac Bridge, 10:45 p.m. Bring a tape-recorder with you and, inform no-one. No Cops, No Private Detectives, no outside involvement. I will be watching. _

_A Mutual Friend_

"A mutual friend?" I asked looking at Dan intensely, "What did he mean by a mutual friend?" I turn my attention back to the paper, the intense scribbles on the page indicated that there was something on the writers mind. Whatever this was, it was weighing heavily creating stress. Looking from Dan to Brandon to Tabbitha I some looks of confusion some of which reflected my own. As I sat and pondered what the note meant, there came a knock at the front door. Dan walked over to the window looking out he saw the mailman walk away. When the mail truck was safely out of sight Dan walked out onto the porch and retrieved the mail. Returning he had a grim look on his face, and shuttered as the handed me the mail. I looked down and what handed me and what I saw was unbelievable, in my hand there was a similar envelope. Removing the white latex gloves I pulled on a new set as to not cross-contaminate evidence. The addressee of the letter this time was not Dan, but it was to me. 

Putting the letter down I had everybody sit tight, I ran outside, jumped into my car and sped after the mail truck. About twenty miles down the road, I caught up to him at a stoplight. Looking at him through the window of his truck I motioned for him to roll down his window. "Sir, about twenty miles back there, you delivered an unstamped, unmarked envelope to a friend of mine for me, I inquire sir, where did you get the letter?" 

"Who's asking?" said the mail carrier. 

"Dixon Hatfield, the true intended recipient of the letter. This is a matter of great importance; I ask again, where did you get that letter?" I said as I flashed my consultants I.D. badge the police gave me for access to the crime scene. After looking at me and my badge, he pointed to a parking lot nearby, and turned in. I followed, wanting the answer to my question.

"My dear boy," he said to me, "I was given the letter by a man near that house. It is not a usual thing for me to deliver letters like that, however he did gave me this." he said as he pulled a crisp hundred dollar bill from his pocket. "I was asked by a man in a dark cloak, I could not see his face, his hat covered it, to take the letter to the door, and give it to the resident. As I returned to let the man know that the deed was done, he was gone."

"Do you remember where he was when he asked you?"

"Near the bushes next to the road, but" I cut him off.

"Was there anything about him that you remember?"

"Not really, except his cigar, I asked him to put it out because I am asthmatic. He did so, on the front tire of my truck." I bent down near the truck to examine the tire; there was evidence of something hot coming into contact with it.

"Is there anything else that you can remember, height, weight, black, white?"

"No sir, I am very sorry, I don't remember much…" I felt my soul dampen; I began to turn away. "Hold on. I do remember something, he was white, but not in our sense of the way, more like Latino-white, like Jennifer Lopez."

"Latino, did you say? Did he walk with a limp? About a little taller than I, and wore a dark-colored Stetson hat?"

"Now that you mention the hat he wore was a dark colored hat, I remember now because he kept his head tilted down so I couldn't see his face. And as he walked away he did have a limp. How could you possibly…?"

"Never mind," I said, "Thank you very much; you have been a great deal of help." I ran back to my car and drove off back to Dan's house. Upon my arrival I was greeted by all of my friends, all inquiring as to my urgent errand. I ran past them back into the house to the unopened envelope with my name on it still lay on the coffee table. I again pulled on latex gloves. I then commenced to opening the envelope. Inside there was a similar letter, in the same childish scribble. 

Friday, 10 pm. Be at the Cedar Motel check into room 13. No Exceptions, no Substitutions, and No tricks. I will be watching

See You Soon

A Mutual Friend


	4. Case One: Chapter Three

CHAPTER 3

Taken a bit aback by this note I read it over several times. The Cedar Motel; not many stay there any more. Not since Holiday Inn and other larger businesses moved in. The Hospitality House is really struggling to stay afloat. The only times all of the lodgings are filled is during snowmobile season and for the Au Sable Canoe Race. Strange that the mystery sender, was sending me to a deserted motel on the edge of town, on Friday the 13th, and to check into room thirteen no less. I then looked up, and there stood Dan, Tabbitha, Brandon, and Adam all stood looking at me. I took the note and placed it in an evidence bag for further processing. I then turned to the group and explained what happened.

Ending my recounts I asked "Dan, would you mind if I smoked?" I asked, pulling out my pipe. "I need to do some deep thinking."

"Sure Dix, but would you take it out back on the deck, I don't want the smell in the house."

"Thank you." I then excused myself and walked out of the back door. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my tobacco and a match and lit my pipe. I stood there listening to the forest puffing my pipe and thinking. Thinking about what was in store for me. I then heard the sliding glass door and Tabbitha walked out. She looked, and walked over to me, resting her head on my arm.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"Yes, puzzled and intrigued, but yes all just the same." I turned and looked at her, I met her eyes, so full of worry and fear; fear of what still eluded me. "Are you alright?" I returned her question.

"Not really, I am nervous, and worried about you. After two years of being home, we now get involved in something, something mysterious. I am scared Dixon; I am afraid that something is going to go terribly wrong, very soon."

Wrapping my arms around her I pulled her in front of me, taking my pipe out of my mouth, I looked her deep in the eyes, into her very soul and said, "There, there. Everything is going to turn out alright, you'll see. I don't want you to worry like this about me. It is unhealthy. I believe that this is going to be a little stranger of a case than usual but nothing extremely exciting, or dangerous, there is nothing to worry about. I promise, by the time this is over, everything will be alright and back to normal, as best as possible at least." I tried to comfort her, but I knew in the back of my mind, her instincts are usually right. Added to that I had the same sickening feeling as though something was indeed going to happen that would affect my life completely. All at once I recognized the handwriting, from a case three years ago, two months before I returned home. It was Damian Michaels. He was back. I took Tabbitha by the shoulders and pulled her away so I could look into her eyes, 

"Do you own a gun?"

A little surprised at my question she stood shocked, "Wha.. Yes I do why?"

"Come with me." I said as I headed back for the door tapping my pipe out on the railing as I went. Walking inside, I pulled the false bottom of my kit out and removed the file folder that was in there. After glancing at it I tossed it back onto the table where it laid open. Dan after looking at the file, and the rest following suit asked, a little confused at my actions, "Is everything alright?"

"Dan, as paranoid as you are I know you have at least one gun around here, right?"

"Yes, I have a few hunting rifles in the safe upstairs, and a sidearm but other than that…I am not paranoid!"

Ignoring his latter comment I practically commanded, "Get them, now. Bring ammunition too."

Brandon, pulling his own gun from his side, shocked me a bit. He never had carried before, just trained, and practiced. I pulled my back-up weapon and handed it to Adam. Dan returned to the room carrying one rifle and the other two slung over his shoulder. I noticed his sidearm was on him as well. He set them down on the table, I picked up a rifle and handed it to Tabbitha, "Do you know how to use this?"

"Yes, why? What's going on?" But by that time I was already on my cell calling my old partner from Detroit.

"Axel, its Dixon. Damian's back."


	5. Case One: Chapter Four

CHAPTER 4

"I don't know how he did it, I don't know when, but he now knows my entire life inside out. He has even contacted and old friend of mine and _I_ didn't even know he lived up here. I don't think he is playing mind games this time. He is out for revenge. A messenger of his not an hour ago, passed an unmarked note to the postman for me. He is close. I need full support here yesterday, swat, FBI, bomb squad, Crime Lab and NSA get them here, and I mean fast. We may not be around for much longer, if he sticks to his M.O. I have three civilians here." Then turning to Dan, "Is there anything you see different in the house, something that wasn't here before, or something that has moved positions?"

At first glance he shook his head no, I said; "Look carefully, the house could be bugged or wired to blow. Anything, even if we have already moved it."

Again Dan looked carefully around the room, his eyes then rested on the entertainment center in the corner, on top was a small digital clock. "That clock," he said, "That was never there before, and I've never moved it either." I walked slowly over to it eyeing the floor for trip wires. I looked behind the clock careful not to touch it, as my experience with explosives has been, well, rather explosive. Behind the clock I saw, two wires, one green, and one red coming from the back of the clock and heading to a block of modeling clay that was clearly marked, 'C-4' I took a very small sample from the C-4 to make sure it wasn't a fake. I backed away slowly, and turned to the group.

"Within one minute I can tell you if we are in any immediate danger." And with that I took my kit and removed my spray bottle and mixed my chemicals together to test for nitro, a key component in explosives and combustibles. Much to my fear it reacted, in the negative way. As we stared at the result, everyone looked with curiosity and awe. I however looked at it with worry, and concern. Anything could set it off, the opening of a door, the turning of a sink knob, anything knowing Damian. The only thing I knew was safe for certain was the front door. The only place where we had all came in or out. "Everyone, head for the front door, normally, do not touch anything." I had said as I began to turn everyone toward the front door. After Tabbitha, Adam, Dan, and Brandon were leaving the house I heard a sound coming from inside the house. It was the sound of the grandfather clock upstairs. It began to chime. Without hesitation I cried out, "Run!" and as everyone ran outside of the building, we didn't even think about the cars we brought. We just ran as fast as we could, timing the chimes in my mind, the clock struck noon, and I yelled to everyone to get down, and the house exploded, engulfing the cars in flames causing secondary explosions. Everything was lost, the evidence, my kit, and then I began to feel my pockets. Dan looked at me and asked what the matter was. "My sunglasses, they're gone." And no later than the words left my mouth, coming from the now roaring house, landing at my feet were the remains of the frames to my sunglasses. Picking them up I looked at them and reality struck like a fist. That could have been anyone of us in there when it went off. I turned to the group and said, "Well, gang, we might as well get a move on, no sense staying here. When I find this guy I really going to enjoy locking him up. Lunatic," I said, then adding a little humor, "He is really going to pay, he destroyed my favorite sunglasses."

Not fifteen minutes later, fire trucks flooded the scene. I used their radio to call for C.S.U. back up and for them to bring a spare kit. I then called Axel again. "Ax, Damian has just declared war, and I don't intend to disappoint."

"Where are you going to be, so I can contact you?" I hear from the other end of the phone.

"For about the next hour I will be processing an explosion scene, after that I am going after Damian. That is how long you have to coordinate a plan of action. After that, I am going after him, with or without the support and backup. He just made this _very_ personal."

"We already have reinforcements headed your way, I just spoke with dispatch and they said E.T.A. is twenty minutes."

"Good, they better have brought alternate transportation for them, cause I will be commandeering one of their trucks."

"Understood, hey Dix, you didn't have your car…"

"Yeah I did. Gone, just like the house…" I said finishing his question, "C-4. He did it, got it all Ax, my kit, the evidence, my car, even my sunglasses. I think he is trying to make this very personal. He has my attention, and I hope he intends to keep it. Does someone in the CIA still owe you a favor?"

"Yeah, why? Wait, you're not planning to…"

"You're damned right I am. I want a satellite following my every move, I want surveillance every minute of every day until we catch this creep. With the satellite I want coverage within five feet of my actual position. I will be in constant contact with them to give them a rough idea of where to start looking, and who to follow."

"Consider it done." 


	6. Case One: Chapter Five

CHAPTER 5

After hanging up with Axel I heard the sounding of sirens again and this time it was the bomb squad, and the crime scene unit. Pulling into the driveway they climbed down out of their vehicles still staring at the raging inferno, I heard a voice from behind me, "Just couldn't wait for backup could you? Had to start the party early huh?" 

I don't even need to turn around. "Frank Thomas." I turned around to see him standing there giving me his Cheshire cat grin. "How are you? Its been so long."

"Yeah, I was beginning to get bored, it was getting quiet."

"Really, that's a little strange; I thought things were never dull around here." I added jokingly.

"Alright back to business, what type of bomb was it? Did you get a good look at it?"

"Yes," I said, "The alleged explosive was marked as C-4, and the detonation device was the grandfather clock upstairs when it struck twelve. I took a small sample of the explosive to test for any real threat…"

"Wait a minute, you took a sample?"

"Yeah, kind of."

"Dixon, you've got bigger ones than me."

"And what does that mean exactly Frank?" at that moment Frank turned around and said to the other bomb squad junkies, 

"Fellas, I would like to introduce an old fiend of mine, Dixon Hatfield, the man with the bigger ones than I and who isn't afraid to grab life by the nads and give a good yank."

"Yeah, that's me. The ball-less wonder, but every now and again I get a burr up my ass, but seriously what took you so long to get here Frank? It's been about fifteen minutes since I called for reinforcements. When I worked with you our response was a lot faster."

"Yeah, that's because you were driving, couldn't wait for anything. But I guess we could blame that on the energy bars you ate every fifteen minutes. You haven't had one recently have you?"

"No not in several months. I am happy to say I have given energy bars up and just drink a whole lot of coffee, just to keep me going."

"So where to now Dix, where should we next look for explosions?" He joked as I stuffed my hands irritably into my pocket, brushing against something. I pulled it out it was the note from Damian. I re-read it and got an idea. "Today is Thursday, right?"

"Yeah, what's up you got a hot date or something?"

"Yeah, or something." I repeated to myself as I re-read the note a third time.

"Dix, you alright?"

"Do you know where the Cedar Motel is in Grayling?"

"Yes, why?"

"That is where I am supposed to meet Damian, tomorrow night." And then seeing the confused look on Frank's face I explained everything. When I was done, he was shocked, to say the least. He couldn't really say much except that he was going to be ready for anything. "Thank you, Frank. This really means a lot to me. Watch your back till I'm back alright?"

"Will do." He replied, still a little shell shocked about what happened while I was gone.

"Well, so long Frank." 

"Until the next time we meet old friend." As we said those last words we returned to Grayling, returned home, to face my past that has come back, finally, to bite me in the ass.


	7. Case One: Chapter Six

CHAPTER 6

I, my brother and Tabbitha all took one car back. Dan and Brandon took another car. Returning home I decided to take a few minutes to have a cup of coffee at the Lone Pine restaurant. Sitting down at a table in the corner, we watched our waitress Ruby walk over to the table, Adam, Tabbitha, and I all exchanged nervous glances as to Ruby being our waitress, as her track record had never been the greatest. But she had other talents. She was taking courses through local colleges and programs for Massage Therapy. _Massage Therapy, which could come in handy sometime, maybe later today._ At that point Ruby walked over and stood next to me, and asked for our order.

"Coffee for me please and then the rest of theirs," I motioned to the others, "it's all on my bill."

"You don't have to do tha-," Dan said in protest.

"Well since I recently blew up your house, I think it's the least I can do." I said, cutting him off.

"Granted, but the insurance covers it, and besides, I didn't care for the set up anyway." He joked. Then looking back at Ruby, "Alright all on one bill."

"Thank you," I said, "I will have a coffee. And…" I motioned to my companions. She followed my gesture with her gaze. Adam requested Tea, Tabbitha asked for Lemonade, Brandon and Dan both had coffee. At that point my cell rang; sighing as I reached for it I smile and excuse myself. I walk outside and answer my phone, "Yeah, it's Dix." 

A familiar voice came over the phone, "It's been a long time Dix. How have you been since that day in Denver? I could only imagine the look on your face." And he began to laugh hysterically.

"It's a shame Damian, the fact that you could never face me like a man, always had to hide behind one elaborate scheme after another. And when I got close you always seemed to run with your tail tucked swiftly between your legs." And it seemed that with the flip of a switch, Damian's mannerism changed from one radical to the other.

"Did you get the note?"

"Aye I did."

"Don't be late." And with that I heard a shrill click as the line went dead. I looked at the phone and smirked. Damian was put off of his game and he wanted to meet face to face once again. I turned around and walked into the restaurant, back to the table where the rest of the group sat awaiting an explanation. I shrugged my shoulders as a response to their questioning gazes. All of them with the exception of Brandon let the shrug do as an answer. He instead watched me intently, like a cat watches a fish in an aquarium. He wasn't ready to let my mysterious call go unnoticed.


End file.
